Tile Games
by Cathartic Storyteller
Summary: A slice of life narrative where Roxas, your average high school student, is forced to adapt to new surroundings and people. Being ripped from his old life, he finds comfort, conflict, peace, and hardships in the shy girl that hides in the back of the classroom.
1. Ease

My eyes flutter open in response to the rays of light that permeate through the window curtains to my left. The morning light only accentuates the naturally blinding environment that comes with your average white, sterilized hospital room. I squint, shutting out the blistering glares that seem to encompass my very being. Shielding my vision with my hand, I gaze at the small calendar that sits longingly on my bedside table, as if reflecting the longing that I've felt for the past months. Grabbing the marker that was sitting next to it, I crossed another mark over one of the multiple boxes that adorned the page. A habit I started about two months ago, when I was given the humble calendar as a present.

I was just your normal kid. I didn't partake in any club activities, so I spent most of my time studying. I had recently found a hobby in playing tennis, but felt no desire to join the school's team. Organized sports teams were never my thing. It was a particularly busy day; with finals starting the very next day. Studying just gave me feelings of anxiety and exhaustion, so I decided to shirk my scholarly responsibilities and relieve some stress at the nearby tennis court. I don't remember much of what happened after that. All I remember is the blistering pain in my chest as I collapsed onto the cement ground.

Not many teenagers experience a heart attack.

Not many teenagers experience a doctor telling them they have a severe heart condition.

Not many teenagers have to take daily medication to live.

At first, I was in a stage of denial. My normal life was brutally ripped from me, leaving me as a husk of my former self. I was forced to stay in bed because my heart couldn't handle much of anything physical. I just laid there and watched the days roll by. It took me two months of hospitalization before I grew used to this depressing, melancholic way of living. Once I got used to it, it seemed that my body had done so as well. The doctor said that my body had grown stronger in the past months and that I would be able to leave soon. I was so jaded about my situation that I didn't believe him. Four months later, here I am – crossing out the last day of my imprisonment on the small calendar a nurse bought me.

At the time, this day seemed like a distant dream. An unattainable hope. But now that the day is actually upon me, it felt all the more real as I crossed my final mark over the last blank box of November. I set the calendar back to its original resting place. I stretch, attempting to relieve myself of all the morning cramps, and shuffle out of the room. The fluorescent lights do nothing to comfort my adjusting eyes as I'm forced to stagger through the hall with only having a clue as to where I was.

Normally, if someone in patient garb is walking through the halls in a blind stupor, he gets escorted back to his room. Apparently, I'm an exception to this rule. Perhaps it's because my hospitalization isn't due to some mental instability or perhaps it's my relatively young age. For whatever reason, I've been granted special permission to roam the hospital as long as I didn't exhaust myself. I guess they trust me to not try anything irrational or stupid. Special treatment like this would probably be frowned upon, but my dad has connections with the hospital's main administrator. I mean, it's not like I can do much. Whenever I leave my room, it's only to visit the library.

I call it a library, only because I don't know any other way of describing it. It's just a storeroom of books that are kept for the patients' use, since you can't do much when you're stuck in bed. You normally ask a nurse to pick one out for you, but, once again, I've got special privileges. Before my accident, I never really read books for fun. I only read them for school assignments and research. But because of my prolonged stay at the hospital, I grew an affinity for light novels. Yesterday, one of the nurses said I could take one of the books from the library with me as celebration for my release. So I intend to take her up on that offer. A few of the hospital staff greet me as I make my way to the small storeroom; going about their daily schedules.

What's going to happen today?

Will I really be released?

Or is it all too good to be true…

I shake my head, dispelling all negative thoughts. Worrying won't change anything, so I should just stop worrying and accept whatever happens. That's the attitude I'd adopted throughout my stay at this establishment. When you're stuck in a bed for the entire day because you might just keel over and die, you learn that your life isn't always in your hands.

I pick out a book that I've been eyeing for a while now, but never got to reading. I'd found it by accident after knocking down a whole row of books in one fell swoop. Inconspicuously hiding behind this row was a small book with an unassuming white cover. The title read,_ The Girl Who Loved Winter_, and offered no words besides that. Besides the cover, the rest of the book was completely blank – even the spine. Not a single quote, review, or brief summary on the back cover either. I was perplexed, but at the time I was currently engrossed in a tale of dragons and castles, so I left it where it was. I had all but forgotten about it until now, and if there's one book I'm keeping, it'll be that one.

I pull a few books off the shelf to uncover my hiding souvenir. It looks like a brief read, but I'm still curious as to what it's about. After returning to my room, I stuff it in a knapsack along with the remainder of my medication. As soon as I zip the bag closed, the doctor enters.

"Good to see you're up, Roxas." He remarks with his trained, empathetic voice. "I trust you're aware of what's happening today?"

"Yeah. I'm leaving, right?" I'm still a bit dubious as to whether or not this is really happening. My brain doesn't know whether I should be excited, depressed, jaded, or happy. He laughs at my suspecting tone of voice.

"Don't worry. Today is your last day here." He gives me a refreshing smile before flipping through the papers on his clipboard. "However, there are a few things we have to address before we can let you leave. First, above all else…"

The doctor purses his lips and breaks eye contact with me. While this could indicate many things, I know what he's hesitant about saying. So, in order to quicken my release, I speak for him.

"I'm aware my parents aren't here." He looks back at me with slightly widened eyes before adjusting his glasses.

"Yes, that is the first thing I'd like to address. Both your father and your mother offer you their apologies and best wishes from Radiant Garden. It appears that they were called for important business." I let out an exasperated sigh without thinking. I don't know why I feel disappointed – I knew this would happen. My parents are busy people that live busy lives that require them to be away from their bedridden son. The last time I was visited by them – no, anyone I knew before the accident was three months ago. I should be past caring whether or not they're here.

The doctor drones on and on about things that I should probably care about, but I kind of just want to leave. From what my brain distinguished as "important", I get the picture. I'll be transferring from my old school to a new high school that's close by the hospital – Tasogare Academy. This way, if I get another heart attack, I won't be far from help. Since my parents are currently busy in Radiant Garden, which is a long gummi ship ride away, I'll be living in the school's dorms under slight medical surveillance. Apparently, the teachers have already been notified about my "condition" and have been trained accordingly.

He finishes his briefing as professionally as he began – to the point of not actually being informative and just depressing me. If I have to go to a new school, I don't want to be treated like a charity case. I don't need people walking on eggshells around me. Hopefully, it's just the teachers that know.

"Is that it?" I ask, on the verge of falling asleep.

"Hm, well that's the last thing I've written…" he taps his lower lip with his pen thoughtfully. "Well, there's actually one more thing." His voice suddenly transforms from his normal callous, professional tone to a more empathetic one. "Not as a doctor to his patient, but on a more personal basis. You have to be careful."

"Uh… okay?" Isn't that a given? I'm not exactly sure what he means. Obviously I'll be careful…

The doctor notices the confusion that's probably littered across my face. "I mean… don't overexert yourself. To strengthen your heart and your body, you must exercise – yet you must know your limits."

"News to me. Won't doing physical stuff just endanger me?" From what I heard about my condition, too much physical or emotional stress could prove fatal to me. The doctor purses his lips and averts eye contact once more.

"Well… let's just say…" he hesitates, lets out an exasperated sigh, and stares at me with callous eyes. "If you don't exercise and strengthen yourself, you won't live for much longer."

"… I see." In my six months of imprisonment here in this establishment, the thought of me dying never once crossed my mind. With the doctor's words, the gravity of my whole situation hit me like a sack of bricks.

If I do something stupid, I could die. My heart could literally implode inside my chest. I feel my heartbeat nervously, as if checking to see if it sounds normal.

"It's not something you should worry about _too _much, Roxas." That statement sounds paradoxical to the previous one referring to my untimely death. "Just do some light exercise and take your meds every morning." His reassurances fall on deaf ears as my mind wanders through the worst possible scenarios. When faced with the possibility of death, I'd rather just stay in bed.

"Yeah… I got it…" I murmur a response as I size up my situation. It seems that everything is already set up for me, so there's no way I can back out of this. I guess my situation is so imperative that they had to take me from my old school. Not like I miss any of them. I've long since forgotten about my old classmates after I received one letter from the entire class. A few friends showed up a week after my accident, but the inflow of companionship and sympathy quickly ended. Perhaps there was someone who, deep down in their heart, really worried about me. But as far as I can tell, that's just wishful thinking - which is a shame, because I can think of someone that should have been there for me, or rather, I was expecting to be there with me.

But I guess that shows how much I know.

I cast away those nostalgic feelings of loneliness in order to stay in the present. After all, that's all that matters. Loitering in past issues will leave me ill-prepared for today's tribulations. In a way, I've got a new lease on life. If there's any silver lining to this whole ordeal, it's that I've got a clean new slate. I'm going to a new school with new people, a new environment, and a new place to live…

I guess focusing on the miniscule positives is all I can do at this point.

After all, if I don't, I might just die.


	2. Captivated

The first thing that strikes me is the alternating black and white marble tiles that pave the ground. The relatively polished floor reflects the vibrant and somewhat overpowering lights that emanate from the ceiling.

The second thing that strikes me is the desolate lack of people. Of course, that's somewhat expected. After all, everyone should be in class. Just my luck to be late on my first day of school.

The complete void of people only serves to accentuate the resounding clicks that my footsteps make as I stumble through the school halls. While my tardiness could be accounting to my anxiety in response to the profusion of rather life-changing events recently, I'm really just lazy and overslept. Yesterday was the last day that I would live in my old home before moving to the school dorms. I was released on Friday, so I had my stuff moved over the weekend. Well, it wasn't me that set things up. By the time I got home from the hospital, my room was completely spotless. Everything was in some truck driving halfway across town – everything except for my bed and a small handwritten note from my parents. I barely skimmed through the note before tossing it and crashing onto my bed. I was exhausted, and didn't care for any half-hearted apology. I spent the weekend lying at home, going through the medical warnings the doctor had imparted with me. I could have visited some old classmates and told them about my departure, but I didn't care to. What was the point?

The trip from my house to the school on Monday was supposed to be an easy one. Just a simple twenty minute bus ride with no transfers at all. But I overslept, missed my bus, and had to walk fifteen minutes to the nearest transit. The closest stop was ten minutes away from the school, making me a whopping forty minutes late to my first day of school. What's worse is that I've just now discovered that the campus is absolutely massive. It took me a few minutes to navigate the outside terrace and find the damn front door. But now I'm learning that the actual school building's got multiple floors, branching halls, connecting rooms, - I just want to find classroom 3-B!

My frustrated rants are kept locked inside as I meander through the expansive halls of Yasogare Academy. I take a ferocious bite out of a chocolate croissant I had bought from a local bakery on the way here, which sates the burning rage that's resonating in my chest. Seriously, getting lost and being late on my first day of school? This is like one of those really bad teenage rom-com films marketed for pubescent girls. The next thing I know, I'll crash into the hottest, most popular guy in school.

I peek around the corner to make sure that I don't eat my own words.

Seeing no suspiciously adult-looking high school studs – or anyone for that matter, I continue navigating the enigmatic floors of Yasogare Academy. Finding a wide spiral staircase, I ascend past the second floor and embark onto the third. I may be making a rash assumption, but I'm guessing that classroom 3-B is on the third floor. I examine each of the nameplates on the doors, and sure enough, I find the entrances to rooms 3-E, 3-D, and 3-C lined down the center hall. As I pass each one, the lively chatter of students can be heard from within. It's only until I'm actually staring at the small steel characters marked "3-B" when I start questioning myself.

What am I supposed to do?

Just walk in there in the middle of their class?

Peek my head in slightly and call the teacher over?

Wait, but shouldn't they already know about me? All of my stuff was already transferred, I'm pretty sure my teacher's would know about me.

After all, they've all been informed of my… condition.

So then what… what am I doing just standing here?

As I start wracking my brain for the most ideal way to break the tension of introductions, I'm interrupted by the presence of someone behind me. I spin on my heel to face the mysterious presence. A tall man, about a head taller than me, with vibrant red hair stands there with a bored expression on his face. He stares at me for a second, runs his head through his spiky hair, and yawns loudly. After scratching his neck, he points at me with the same bored expression painted across his face.

"So, you the new kid?" His extended finger moves forward and jabs me in the sternum. I stumble back slightly and my back rests lightly against the wall. He gives me a snort of derision and boredom, like he had just made a funny joke but didn't feel like explaining it. "Huh, looks like you're still alive. Good job."

What.

The implications of his action in response to what he just said instantly hits me. He knows about my condition, so he just poked me to see if I'd keel over? What the hell? Who the hell does this guy think he is? What would he have done if I _did_ have another attack? Did he think this was all just a joke? I can't belie-

"You gonna move? I've kinda got a class to teach, unfortunately."

"Huh?" Some confused, unintelligible response leaves my lips as he reaches past me and twists the door handle. Without waiting for me to move, he simply pushes through me and opens the door – nearly knocking me over. I manage to evade him and end up slightly to the right of where this whole ordeal had started.

"Yo, guys. Sorry I'm late again." My brain begins to process the information that's being filtered in through the personal layers of confusion and disbelief. "Well, not really. But you know, class is starting – or whatever…"

He's my teacher?

Why the hell is he over forty minutes late to class?

"Hey, you gonna come in here or what?" My exasperated thoughts are cut off by my new teacher. "I mean, you can stay out there if you want. But, I figure you don't want to introductions by yourself…" My brain suddenly catches up to real life. I enter the classroom and look around, primarily so I don't meet the curious gazes of my new future classmates. It's pretty spacious; the ceiling is kind of high, and there's lots of space around and in between the desks. The entire left wall is covered with three giant windows, only making the room seem larger. The actual desks are just the standard wooden and metal desks you see everywhere. Some company that mass produces these must make a fortune. I stop walking once I get to the front of the room and face the other students. From what I can tell, they all look normal. The most distinguishing figure in this assortment of kids seems to be there hair color. I see a few blondes and brunettes scattered about, but we're all wearing the same uniform.

"So, you gonna stare into space or tell us your name?" The red-headed teacher asks me with a bored, apathetic voice. I snap out of my observational trance and focus my gaze on the center of the room.

"Um, my name's Roxas." I scratch the back of my head nervously, before simply shrugging. "What else am I supposed to say?" It was an honest question, but my new fellow classmates thought it was a joke and laughed.

"Sure, that's fine… I guess. Sit wherever you want." He waves his hand in some vague direction. Making sure I don't trip or bump into someone, I make my way to the very back of the room. Most of the students have occupied the front and middle seats, so there only a few free spaces are in the back. I can't help but think that this is pretty strange. At my old school, you were lucky to get a space in the back. Different strokes for different people I assume. There's only one person in the very back row – a girl opted to take the window seat. I gave her a silent compliment on her excellent choice of seating.

There entire row to her right is open, leaving me conflicted. Do I take the seat next to her to be friendly, or do I take I put a seat between us for personal space and run the gambit of offending her?

The thought that I'm overcomplicating things passes through my mind. Of course I am, I really shouldn't be – it's a bad habit of mine. I plop my backpack onto the table as quietly as I can. Sitting down, I realize how massive this school is. In this room alone, there are probably about thirty or forty students. During my adventure through the school campus, I passed by at least a dozen rooms where the clamor of students and teachers alike could be heard through the thin walls. I'm used to smaller, more amenable surroundings since my old school was relatively small. Here, I'm in a literal cesspool of people with differing personalities, cliques, and activities. I've been thrown into this place with no prior knowledge and left to fend for myself.

I clench my teeth in an attempt to get rid of the pent-up frustration that I've inevitably accumulated due to my whole situation. I lean back into my chair, taking a more reclined position in preparation for the long school day. Absentmindedly, I look to my left at my new seatmate. Her blonde hair seems to cascade down her petite figure, stopping at around her mid back. She doesn't have bangs, per se, but a few waves of hair that hand down her forehead and stop at a pair of blue eyes staring back at mine.

Just as I realize she's looking at me, she averts her gaze quickly and returns to staring intently at the desk. It happens so quickly that I keep staring at her to see if I'm not just imagining things. Sure enough, every few seconds, she quickly darts her eyes in my direction before gluing them back to her empty desk. After about a minute of this, she reaches into her backpack and pulls out a book. Not a textbook, mind you, a novel. She looks like she's reading it, but I can tell by her eyes that she's barely skimming the words. Despite having a book, she keeps up her previous subtle motions, leaving me wondering if I've done something to worry or offend her.

Maybe I should stop staring at her? I don't even know why I'm doing so to begin with. It's probably unsettling to have a total stranger stare at you. I should definitely stop staring at her.

Why am I still staring at her?

I tear my eyes away from her and redirect them in the vague direction of my apathetic teacher. While I give off the pretense that I'm a diligent student, I'm really just mulling over inconsequential thoughts in my head.

Why was I staring at her? It's a question I ask myself, but one I'm finding difficult to answer. I don't know why, but for some reason I feel entranced by her presence. She just gives off this air of… mystery… or something. I can't really explain it.

I notice myself unconsciously taking peeks to my left at her. I rest my head on my desk and cover my face with my arms. I chalk up my strange transfixions to a mix of exhaustion and shock from having my life literally flipped upside down.

Suddenly, said exhaustion hits me like a ton of bricks dropped from the sky. I lose the motivation to pay attention to whatever the teacher is saying. After all, it can't be that important. With that reassuring thought in mind, I take a blissful nap.


	3. Out of the Loop

There's a strange feeling that occurs when you wake up after sleeping in class. The first is the exhausting sensation of recovering from your sleep-addled state. You fight the grasping hands of sleep in order to assess the situation around, if only to see if you're safe to return to your slumber. The second is the bewildering sensation of not knowing what the hell is going on. Most likely, someone will be talking and you'll be waking up in the middle of said discussion. At my old school, I would usually look to my neighbor's book to see what page we were on, turn to that page, and then return to my impromptu hibernation. The third, and final, sensation is one of panic as you realize that you're the only one sitting down as everyone else is packing up and leaving.

"Oh, shit!" I blurt out in a volume that's not loud enough for the teacher to hear, but just loud enough to incite giggles from a group of nearby girls. I look to my left and see an empty seat.

She's gone already…

I quickly sling my bag over my shoulder and flee the classroom. If my old school has taught me anything, it's that post-class crowds can kill you. I can only imagine the mobs from this considerably larger school. I bolt through the halls at high speeds; turning whenever I feel like I should. It's only after I descend down a flight of stairs that I feel like I'm dying. My knees feel like buckling, I'm wheezing in between gaping breaths, and I literally feel my body grow hotter at a worrying pace. I lean against the nearby wall and place my hand on my chest. A chill rushes down my spine once I feel my speeding heartbeat. I force my eyes shut, focusing on breathing and not passing out. My skin feels clammy and I start seeing spots.

Eventually, my heartbeat slows down and begins to normalize. I stood there in the empty hall with my shirt scrunched in my hand. I'm sweating bullets and my head feels dangerously empty and light. Wiping my forehead with my wrist, I collapsed onto the floor. My breathing pattern returns to normal and I stare emptily into space.

So, this is what my life has come to, huh?

I can't even run down the school halls…

Resounding stomps from the nearby staircase grow louder and louder to my right. I'm too mentally exhausted to get up and leave, so I just sit there and gaze vaguely in the newcomer's direction. Finally, a girl sprints out of the staircase and screeches to a stop a few feet away from me. She sighs lethargically and puts her hands on her hip. It seems that she hasn't noticed me and I'm not sure whether or not I should make my presence known. She wheels her head to the right, making her long scarlet hair fly in the opposite direction. Unsatisfied with what she sees, she twists her head to the left in my direction.

"Hey, you!" She points at me with a look of superiority. "Are you Roxas?"

"Um… yeah?" I answer hesitantly. I don't know who this person is, but she appears to vaguely know me. Upon hearing my response, her posture physically reclines in relief.

"Good good…" She mutters to herself quietly. She adopts a thinking pose, pinching her chin with one hand and holding it up with her other arm. Looking up at her, I'm confronted by startling blue eyes that match my own. She's wearing the girl's uniform, so I assume that she's a student. "What are you doing on the floor?" She bends over to look me in the eyes. "You weren't planning on… hiding and ditching class… were you?" Her tone of voice suddenly becomes venomous and threatening, sending jolts down my spine.

"No! No, I-… er…" I'm quick to claim innocence, but I realize that I don't have a good excuse. I'm about to blurt out the truth in order to avoid being flayed alive, but my confession comes out as a garbled mess. In the back of my head, an argument between myself and I begins.

Do I even want people to know about my condition?

Sure, the teachers are already clued in, but do I want it to stay that way?

I'd prefer not being treated like a victim in need of help, but it'll be a hassle to keep it a secret for god knows how long.

So do I tell this random stranger about my illness?

Well the answer to that is obvious.

Hell no.

With new resolve, I bolster myself to my feet with the help of the nearby wall. A sudden spike of pain hits me like a knife to the chest. I wince and grit my teeth, biting my tongue in the progress. But as soon as the pain came, it left immediately, leaving me with the slight aftertaste of death. Although I was able to avoid crying out in pain, the red haired girl still notices the indicia of my illness.

"H-Hey, are you okay?" Her murderous voice is replaced with one filled with genuine concern. I open one eye and attempt a genial smile.

"Y-Yeah… I'm okay." The pain finally disperses entirely, so I stretch my arms nonchalantly to convince the stranger of my well-being. Getting a look at her face, I can tell she's not convinced in the slightest, so I desperately try to change the topic. "S-So… you were looking for me?" Her eyes light up in recognition. Zipping open her messenger bag, she pulls out a relatively small notebook.

"Yes… you're right." She starts flipping through the pages, muttering my name under her breath like she's trying to remember something. "Here we are… Roxas. Class 3-B. Age 16. Dorm room 3." She starts rattling off a list of information about me that sounds very similar to a sheet I was given when I met with the school's administration. If I knew what I was hearing, this girl was reading my student recognition sheet, which made me really question who she was and why she had all my info. After listing off information I wasn't even aware of, like my blood type, she looks away from her notebook and at me. "Does this sound like you?"

"Um… yeah, pretty much." I rub the back of my head nervously. "Er… who are you?" I thought it was a normal question, but she finds it humorous.

"Yeah, I guess you must be a bit out of the loop now, huh." No kidding. "I'm Kairi, the female class representative for the third years." While that may answer two of the questions I had, it doesn't answer the other ninety-eight.

"So… why were you looking for me?" I repeat my earlier question, reflecting on how she completely ignored it.

"Oh yeah, I forgot about that." She glances back at her notebook for a few moments before turning back to me. "But before I go over that, there was something I wanted to ask you." She… ignored the subject again…

"What is it?"

"It's this." She turns her notebook around and pretty much shoves its contents in my face. She points to a certain sentence half way down the page.

_Transfer student as of December 3. Late transfer due to prolonged medical stay._

"Uh…" I unconsciously mutter, but she interrupts me.

"So, what's this about?" She doesn't sound accusatory in her questioning, rather she sounds genuinely curious. "Prolonged medical stay? You get hit by a car or something?" Her genial smile gives me the impression that this was meant to be a joke, but I must be an unrefined cur because I don't find it funny. No, I wasn't hit by a car. But isn't it common sense that you don't make a joke about someone who's been in the hospital? What the hell is wrong with this girl? I mean, what the hell! Seriously, I mean I… I…

I almost died…

"I'd rather not talk about it." I answer curtly. I hear her sigh of disappointment, but I refuse to look at her. Why? I don't know.

"I understand…" Her voice trails off into awkward silence. We're both left standing there in the empty hallway. "Oh yeah, I forgot." She hits her forehead with the palm of her hand in a comedic fashion – sticking out her tongue for added effect. "I'm supposed to be your guide for today!" She turns around and beckons for me to follow her. "C'mon, we're gonna be late for class!" Although I'm a bit perplexed and worried by her constant changes in personality, I realize that I don't have much of a choice.

"Sure, whatever." With my less than confident response, we climbed back up the staircase from whence we came.

There was still quite a commotion as we treaded through the waves of rushing students. Some were negotiating their lockers while others were talking with friends, but most of them were hurriedly rushing down the hall in whichever way to get to their next class before they were marked for tardiness.

"So… dorm room 3, huh?" Remarkably, despite the bustle of our fellow classmates, I can hear Kairi just fine. "Looks like Sora's getting a new friend!" She giggles to herself, like she'd just made a clever reference to an inside joke.

"Um… what?" Whatever this joke is, I'm certainly left in the dark.

"Oh, yeah… guess you wouldn't know. Sora's just another third-year like you and I." She brushes a few strands of hair behind her ear. "Well, except he's my boyfriend." She briefly smiles to herself, though it doesn't go unnoticed by me. "His old roommate transferred out over the summer, so you'll be his new living partner – I guess you could call it." No, actually. That's not a good phrase to describe a roommate.

"Hm, is that so…" I don't particularly care for this interesting tidbit too much, but I guess it's something good to know. After all, the easiest way to assimilate yourself into a culture is to absorb any and all information.

"Heehee…" She laughs lightly and turns to me with a refreshing smile. "Don't worry, you'll like him! He's really nice…" Her face pinks up a tiny bit as she turns away from me. After a few moments of comfortable silence and walking, we arrive in front of another classroom door. "Welp, here's where your next class is! Hope you remembered the way here." I nod in affirmation and thank Kairi for leading me here. "Hehe, no problem. It's my job!" She gives me a thumbs up and pats me on the back. "After this class is over, you've got lunch next."

"Am I supposed to wait for you again?" I ask in advance, not wanting to be meandering across the giant school again.

"Er..." She purses her lips and looks at the ceiling. "I think I have to go to a council meeting… but don't worry!" She pats me on the shoulder reassuringly. "Just follow the crowd to the cafeteria." The class bell suddenly blares across the school's PA system, making me jump. "Welp, I gotta go! Have fun!" She wheels around on her heel and bolts down the hall, waving me goodbye over her shoulder.

I run my hand through my hair and sigh. "Damn… don't even know where my next class is." I exhale loudly before drifting into the room. I inform the teacher that I'm the new transfer student, he assigns me to a seat in the back of the room, and I take my place in the class.

Right next to a familiar blonde haired girl.

"You…" I hear her mutter in an inquisitive manner. Of course, I could barely hear her so I'm just assuming she's as surprised as I am.

"Hm?" I respond unintelligibly, setting my bag down on the seat next to her. She looks at me for a few seconds before turning around and gazing out the window. I'd normally press the issue about what she wanted, but I'm exhausted. I collapse into my seat and rest my head in my arms once more. The teacher's lessons drone on in the background, nostalgically reminding me of how I spent my time in class at my old school.

Jeez, why am I so tired today? Melancholic thoughts pass through my empty head as I attempt to sort out everything that's going on. I almost had another heart attack, which led to making a "friend", I guess you could call her. More like a legalized stalker, considering how much she knows about me.

I look to my left to see my recurring seatmate getting busy with the same book she was "reading" in the previous class. Except this time, she's not skittishly darting her eyes back at me like a frightened cat. She appears completely engrossed by the novel, her eyes staring intently at the words transcribed on the page – captivating blue eyes, if I forgot to mention. She lightly bites her bottom lip and her eyes scrunch up in reaction to a foreboding event in the book. She doesn't seem to notice me staring again, and I tear my gaze away from her before she catches the reminiscent feeling of a random stranger ogling her.

Wait, I'm not ogling her!

Yeah, you're totally just staring at her eyes and lips in a scientific way.

Wha- shut up! Now, I'm arguing with myself!

I facedesk as softly as I can before scratching the back of my head rapidly. It's a coping mechanism I developed when I was younger. Whenever I feel flustered or exasperated, I scratch the back of my head. It's strangely therapeutic and calms me down pretty quickly. Since my head is already on my desk, I sneak my phone out of my pocket.

When I asked Kairi about what to do for lunch, I'd forgotten I've already got an appointment. I'd completely forgotten due to everything that was going on, but now that I'd finally calmed down, I remembered a certain text I had gotten this morning. A text from someone I already knew at this school. In fact, this person is someone very close to me, so it's only natural that they would want to see me on my first day of school.

_Meet me at the big tree in the school's courtyard during lunch._

While I appreciated the gesture of seeking me out first, they neglected to tell me anything too specific, most likely out of fear that my first day would be problem-free. This school has a bunch of outdoor spots – for god's sake, it's huge! Which plot of grass with trees and benches is the courtyard? Are the other fields the school's various lawns or what?

And I'm supposed to meet them at a tree? The only details about where we're meeting is that it's a "big" tree, as if I know what constitutes as big when referring to the local foliage. I can only hope that there's only one tree in the courtyard, but then again, I don't really know where the courtyard is, so I'm screwed either way.

Argh!

My arms instinctively reach up to start scratching when the shrill ringing of the school bell startles me once more.

Wha-? Class is over already?

I lift my head from my desk, and sure enough, the majority of students are copying down some last minute homework assignment that the teacher is jotting down on the board. I ignore the assignment, since I can just pull the strings of "first day jitters" or something. Glancing to my left, I see a vacant seat. I twist my neck quickly to the right and barely catch a glimpse of blonde hair before it disappears out of view. Getting a firm grip on my bag, I leap out of my seat to make chase. But when I get out of the room into the hallway, there's no sign of my mysterious seat mate. A few of my classmates have started filtering out of the room, so I figure I should forget about trying to find her.

Why did I suddenly run after her, anyway?

I scratch my neck, not because I'm agitated, but because it was slightly itchy. My hand thrusts into the dark abyss known as my pocket in an attempt to produce a school map. After rustling through some spare change, my dorm key, and a ticket stub from a few years ago, I remember I left the map at my old house during the scramble to get to the bus on time.

A lot of good that did.

Looking around, I notice the windows that almost take up the entire wall. I take a look to see if I can scope out where I am, when I notice something distinct.

A very distinct tree.

Not only distinct for its size, since it was kinda big, but it was also the only tree. Encircled around its trunk were wooden benches. And on said benches was someone I recognized. A girl with stark black hair, cut short so it wouldn't pass her neck.

My younger sister, Xion.


End file.
